


did you fall (from a shooting star)?

by Peasantaries



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Asahi is Precious, Awkward Flirting, Family Feels, First Dates, Fluff and Crack, Light Angst, Multi, Pining, Sawamura Daichi in Love, Summer, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-10-19 20:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10647477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peasantaries/pseuds/Peasantaries
Summary: Suga tears his eyes away quickly, flushed, pulse hammering.This cannot be happening.He's literally wearing pyjama pants and the oldest, rattiest t-shirt he owns, probably looking shipwrecked with the state of his hair and sleep-creases lining his cheeks.In which Suga goes on a family vacation, meets The Cutest Boy on the planet, joins the gang of reps at the hotel, and maybe just discovers exactly what he's been looking for all along.[WILL BE COMPLETED]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this in celebration of my exams being over and finally being able to enjoy summer~~ 
> 
> This is probably going to be a very fluffy summery fic for the months coming in, but I just couldn't resist. I went on holiday with my family to Mallorca, and while I do think I've outgrown those kind of vacations, it was such a heart-warming experience. 
> 
> Title inspired by Train, 'Drops of Jupiter', which fits this story pretty perfectly. I plan on making a playlist at the end, complete with links because I'm too good

_This is the last time_ , Suga vows. _The very last_. 

It's not that going on holiday with your family is a bad thing. It's not that going on a family holiday to a family resort is a bad thing. And going on holiday at 22 years old, again, is not a bad thing.

But going on holiday with your family to a family resort at 22 years old, is probably a bad thing.

He never actually understood how he got roped into this. Suga never really understands how exactly he’s roped into anything nowadays.

One minute, he was just telling his mum he didn't have any plans for the summer vacation, lazing on the couch content to eat potato chips for the rest of his life, and the next his mum was phoning him from a booking agency talking how _'the Balearic Islands are really beautiful this season.'_

So Suga does what Suga does best. 

He sucks it up and smiles. 

He resigns himself to two weeks of snacking on bowls of Spanish peanuts while watching his entire family partake in the conga-line and shout for him to join every few seconds. Resigns himself to the insufferable heat and the insect bites and the red patches of peeling, sunburned skin, to the screaming children next door banging on his walls and the steady stream on flamenco music infiltrating his ears and perforating his drums. To Shakira on repeat at every English pub and humouring both his little brother and sister while his parents smile on with angelic faces and margaritas. 

He's fully, whole-heartedly, happily resigned.

So of course, with all this in mind, with all this packed and prepared in a suitcase, he meets Daichi.  

*

Stepping off the plane and into sunny Mallorca really shouldn't be as tiring as it actually is. Suga wants to teleport to the hotel and sleep for three days.

Instead, he shields his eyes from the beaming, bright light, a soft smile tugging at his mouth. It really is a beautiful country. His fingers twitch toward his camera, a familiar habit.

Until Akiko bursts out crying.

Suga bends down to his little brother’s height, a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What's all this, now?"

Akiko scrubs at his eyes with balled up fists. "I'm _HUN_ GRY!" He screeches.

The situation might be straining to a person's who has just had a sixteen-hour flight, but Suga smiles wider in fond exasperation, hoists his little brother onto his hip, and searches into his bag for his forgotten crackers. 

Kammi takes his other hand not supporting Akiko, and that way, they make their way onto the bus.

Thankfully, they both doze off sometime during the journey, and his parents send him smiles as he's used as a human pillow from all angles.

 _Now I see why you wanted me to come,_ Suga thinks grumblingly. He can't exactly blame them. He has a way with his siblings when they're jet-lagged like this. They conk out in minutes, but if he's nowhere to be seen, it can take as long as another transatlantic flight until they pass out.

His parents joke that he takes the role of the adult authority figure very seriously.

 _All inclusive,_ he keeps telling himself. This is basically a free holiday. He won't be paying for any meals, any drinks. It'll probably result in him spending the whole time in the hotel, but it's not as if that matters. He's hardly going to be doing any sightseeing - both of the scenery and/or otherwise.

"We're here." Suga jostles the little people attached to him. "C'mon, time for a nap."

And so that's how he finds himself standing at the reception, waiting for his parents to check them in, backpack slung over one shoulder and both hands occupied by the tight grip of his siblings. 

Suga is casually balancing his weight on each foot because he's exhausted, scanning the lobby in disinterest –

His heart jolts, searing heat quickly coming to his cheeks that has nothing to do with the sun. 

 _Cute boy alert, cute boy alert._ Sirens blare inside his head, red flashing lights spinning around. 

There's a man, no less than a hundred yards away, standing there with a sunny smile and a bright disposition as he talks to two ladies. Only his profile is visible, but the strong, sturdy line of his back cannot be mistaken.

Suga tears his eyes away quickly, flushed, pulse hammering. 

This cannot be happening.

He's literally wearing _pyjama pants_ and the oldest, rattiest t-shirt he owns, probably looking shipwrecked with the state of his hair and sleep-creases lining his cheeks. 

The man turns slightly, his tan biceps bunched where his arms are crossed, and Suga thinks, _wrong, I am wrong - not a cute boy._

This man has to be the most beautiful person Suga's ever seen.

Black hair flops effortlessly across his forehead, a long, lovely nose and a straight row of white teeth as he beams, grin coming across his face like daybreak, eyes squinting to point somewhere. His skin is the kind of burnished brown that's only achieved with perfect genes and being _born in this country_. 

His mouth is moving, but a steady stream of Spanish is about all Suga can decipher, his voice wrapping around the words and making them ten times more attractive than they have any right to be. 

Oh god, why? _Why?_ To all the gods and all the deities in the sky, why is this happening to him? Why is the most attractive man Suga's ever seen in a family resort, while he’s _with his family?_

He feels his face burning, and averts his gaze downward so he's not caught staring.

But then his parents are coming over, suitcases in tow, and Suga tries to keep his eyes on the floor and shuffle unassumingly toward the stairs. However, as if by some heat-ray sense (because that is _how hot_ this man is), Suga can feel him crossing over to them.

"Hiya there, can I help at all?"

Suga glances up sharply at the perfect English that comes right out his mouth, and the man blinks at them, perfectly genial, until he catches sight of Suga.

Suga flushes harder at the flicker of eyes across his body that do a double-take upon the sight of him. 

He must truly look a state.

Red-faced and flustered, disarrayed hair and haggard clothes. He doesn’t even want to know the expression he’s wearing as he looks at the person in front of him.

For the split second it takes for Suga to look away, he catches a badge on the man's otherwise plain black clothes - _holiday rep, Daichi._

Of course.

Of course, he's one of the reps at this hotel. 

"We're – we're fine." Suga stutters out, but it's too late - his parents are already ushering Daichi toward their cases, gesturing to the elevators.

So Suga finds himself squished in-between Daichi and his mother in a lift that could only be described as a _box_ , steadfastly keeping his gaze forward, feeling hot all down to his toes.

This had to happen. Of course it did. This is Suga's life. He can't just go on holiday with his family and wear pyjamas for traveling. He has to meet the most attractive man that exists this side of the world – and the longer Suga stands beside him, the longer he's beginning to think possibly any side of the world.

Daichi is a presence radiating heat and awareness along the length of his side, brushing his skin at intervals before jerking back. 

Suga swallows, throat dry. 

As soon as the doors open, like the gates of heaven, Suga is rushing out, scrambling for his case and smiling wide and pleasant as he waves off Daichi.

“I’ve got it, honest.” He beams.

“No, let me –”

“I can take it – I –”

There’s some kind of awkward shuffle as they both struggle for a grip, and then Daichi seems to realise what’s he’s doing and drops the suitcase as if he’s been burned.

“Of course.” He coughs, nodding, obviously embarrassed.

Suga could die. He’s making this poor, perfect man feel embarrassed. His attraction must be palpable. Daichi probably had tourists throwing themselves off the cliffs at the shoreline for him on a daily basis.

“He’s there to help, darling.” His mother reprimands, and Suga nearly closes his eyes shut in mortification.

He’s twenty-two years old.

“I –” Daichi offers wordlessly, hand held out, and Suga just smiles tightly and passes his case over.

A few steps have never felt more like a mile, but Daichi drops his case off helpfully with a little head tip and a jaunty smile as soon as they’re done, clearly as eager to get away as Suga is.

As soon as the door to his hotel room closes, he’s leaning back as if he’s run a marathon, slumping down and letting his eyes slip closed as the full repercussions of what has just happened hit him.

Suga dashes up and skids on the linoleum floor, spinning three-sixty, and hits the bathroom light to stare full-frontal at himself.

It’s worse.

It’s worse than he thought.

*

Suga has a plan. It’s bulletproof, utterly genius.

He’s going to ignore Daichi.

He’s not simply going to avoid him, awkwardly slide sideways whenever Daichi appears in the vicinity and sink into the floor. He’s going to brazenly walk past, head held high, debonair and nonchalant.

It’ll work. It has to work.

 _This isn’t going to work_ , something whispers in the back of his mind.

Suga’s never lacked confessions back home, but whenever the situation involves someone he’s actively interested in – more specially, someone of the male variety –  his tongue knots itself in his mouth and his face sets itself aflame.

He’s perfectly capable of kindly accepting flowers and bowing down, smiling graciously and gently explaining that he doesn’t return the feelings – physically can’t return the feelings – but when the opposite is true, he’s worse than a schoolgirl pining over their sensei.

He’s flushed and flustered and barely able to string two words together, and so whenever he attempts, it’s a lost cause.

Suga isn’t going to attempt this time. He’s going to ignore Daichi for as long as it takes Daichi’s interest to be piqued.

It’s a long shot, but it’s all he has left.

But before they’re even halfway unpacked, Kammi and Akiko are bouncing around the room demanding to go to the pool. They glanced one look at it when they passed, and now they’re insistent.

“What about nap, hmm?” Suga tries, desperately hoping against hope –

“It might tire them out.” His dad adds, and Suga shoots him a glare so full of betrayal it could pierce through someone in one fell swoop.

His dad chuckles. “It’s still early, let’s go explore.” There’s the same excitement in his eyes as there is in his brother and sister.

“You want to go in the pool.” Suga states, and then his mom is laughing.

“Just for an hour!” She says, already reaching for the towels. “A quick dip.”

Suga knows when he’s been beaten.

He’s a naturally fair person, his white-grey hair and pale skin unusual for his age, and while some might call it unique, exotic, Suga himself calls it a nightmare, because as soon as he steps outside, he’s a human-sized smoked salmon.

Daichi’s skin had the kind of clear, smooth colour of honey that the sun _seeks out_ , that it finds and peppers kisses upon the strong muscles of his hands –

Suga’s face heats again, distracted, and he blinks and snaps himself out of it. Chancing a look in the mirror only confirms his salmon theory. He's already red-faced and he hasn't put one foot out the door.

But he puts on his swim trunks, a towel around his waist and sunglasses on top his head, and breezes out as if he belongs.

*

The only way this could go was wrong.

Suga knew it, the universe knew it, in some way Daichi probably knew it.

But Suga spots him by the bar as they’re making their way to the pool, and tosses his head back, mentally preparing himself to stick to the plan.

Most of the time, Suga’s bad luck cannot be accounted for with social ineptitude or clumsiness or any of the other things people usually get away.

It just is: bad luck.

He takes a step forward, and then he’s sliding, his leg stretching out as he skids, and then he’s down.

He’s truly down, he’s toppling to the floor in a heap of limbs and a crash of noise, the back of his head hitting the hard tiles.

About ten people rush to his aid, but Suga is too disorientated to even realise, until a firm, warm hand is on his arm, hoisting him up.

Suga blinks, dazed, into the dark eyes of Daichi.

“Are you alright?” Daichi is asking, wide-eyed and worried, crease between his forehead. Suga can only blink.

“I –” he starts, frowning, and feels the back of head, where there’s a dull, throbbing pain. He brings his fingers back, they come away wet, red. Suga frowns.

Daichi pales comically, and Suga never knew such handsome features could make such expressive – _expressions_ , and he almost wants to giggle until Daichi is lifting him up and carrying him away.

Suga would gasp if he had any of his sensibilities, but it’s alright, because he’s soon being deposited onto the lobby couch, and brown eyes are peering close again.

“I’ll get some ice for that, do you want me to call a nurse? Do you feel sick? Dizzy?”

Suga is dizzy with this concern from someone he’s only just met, but Daichi takes no notice, glancing to the side and murmuring something in those dulcet, Spanish tones.

“Told them about those wet puddles, I was waiting on a sign, that’s why I was at the bar.” He huffs softly, returning to English, turning to Suga and giving him a private smile. “Figures as soon as I took my eyes away, you’d be the one down.”

Suga blinks, and then his eyebrows are raising. “Are you suggesting this was somehow _my_ fault?”

Daichi blinks, mouth parting open in shock. “No, I –”

“Hm.” Suga crosses his arms petulantly and turns away, but he can’t hide the tug at his lips.

Daichi chuckles, softening instantly. Suga feels a rare jolt of pleasure at the reciprocation. Maybe it’s the probable concussion.

“I never caught your name.” Daichi begins, and Suga feels another jolt pass through him, surprise this time.

“It’s – Sugawara.” He stutters. “But just Suga, usually.”

“Suga.” Something about Daichi’s deep, rich voice murmuring his name gives Suga a fresh wave of sensation.

“Daichi.” Daichi states, holding out one broad, tanned palm.

Suga smiles, and lifts his hand to bypass Daichi’s offered one and flick the nametag playfully.

The change is instantaneous. Daichi colours so darkly, a blush crawling its way all up his throat, that there’s no mistaking it for anything but embarrassment.

 _Suga?_ Makes Daichi _embarrassed?_ For whatever reason?

“I’m sorry, I know.” Suga tries and fails to quell his grin at Daichi’s endearing actions. “But it’s nice to properly meet you, Daichi.”

Daichi offers him a sheepish, timid smile, running a hand through his floppy hair, and their eyes meet and hold as they grin at one another.

Until his family are barging into the lobby, his mother ashen-faced, little brother and sister dripping wet and bringing in more puddles to become hazards.

 _“Suga!”_ They all cry simultaneously, and Suga tries not to grimace.

“Your father’s away to complain to the reception, you just sit there and we’ll have you over to the hospital –”

“Mum, mum.” Suga shakes his head. “Really, it was my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going, and Daichi was finding a sign for it before I fell.”

His mother stops in her tracks, glancing distrustfully between her son and the man above him.

Daichi steps forward, palms pressed flat together, and bows so suddenly and so sharply, it looks as if it nearly snaps his back in half.

“I’m sorry!” He booms. “Take any punishment you see fit out on me, please!”

Suga would smile if it weren’t for the fact that where he’s sitting gives him a perfect view of Daichi’s very sculpted rear end.

“Daichi, honestly!” Suga shouts, and if his voice comes out slightly more strained than before, well, nobody seems to notice. “I slipped, I’m not in a coma! Everyone, please,  _calm down!”_

The lobby is silent.

Suga coughs. “Okay?” He tries, straightening up his back.

Daichi rises slowly, and turns around before bowing to him.

Suga’s cheeks heat, flames erupting over his face.

But then Daichi nods, straightens, and Suga exhales.

“Okay, I feel better, I’m going –” it’s a mistake, because _of course it is_ , but as Suga tries to stand, his weak legs wobble and then he’s flailing until arms are around him, supporting him upwards.

Arms that happen to belong to Daichi, staring down at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“Um.” Suga starts intelligently. “I’m okay now.”

Daichi lets him go so fast it’s as if he’s been electrocuted.

And then Suga drops to the floor like a potato. Really.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a shorter update because a) I suck and b) I didn't want to leave the wait too long in order to write a longer chapter, but plot keeps coming at me, so be warned. Longer chapters are in store (hopefully, maybe, once I drink motivation)

After that, well.

Suga really does avoid Daichi.

He can’t face him. The embarrassment is too traumatic.

He fell, stone-cold, like a rock. Like a _dead fish_.

As if his dignity hadn’t been damaged enough.

But Suga sees Daichi around the hotel, and he’s always quick to lower his head and hide his blushing face, to quicken his pace and make a hasty retreat.

Oh God, Suga will never live this down. He’ll be married with grandchildren and still suffer apoplexy during the night with the flashbacks.

And so, Suga will avoid Daichi – perfect, _lovely_ Daichi – until the day of his (hopefully untimely, if sometime soon) death.

But of course, life doesn’t exactly work like that.

He’s being dragged out because Kammi wants ham.

It might seem quite a simple request. Only Kammi doesn’t want the three types of ham that Suga has tried – the one _freely given_ by the restaurant at the hotel, and the two other types that he’s bought at the SPAR down the road.

And so, they’re trekking into the little village because Suga has found a supermarket there on his phone, and he’s got his eyes glued to the screen as he follows the directions, one had being tugged along by Kammi, when his feet are suddenly being twisted and tangled together.

Suga glances down in surprise, only for a smile to spread its way across his face.

“Hello there!” He says to the three dogs currently wagging their tails, tongues lolling out as they look up to him for pats, which he grants with pleasure, bending to a crouch and scratching behind their fuzzy ears.

Suga glances up with a grin, eyes squinting in the sun, only to find the very man he’s been avoiding for the past two days.

“I’m so sorry about this, they’re rather overeager.” Daichi is saying, his cheeks red as he pulls on the three leashes wrapped around his wrists.

Suga feels himself gaping like a beached whale before he manages to regain semblance over his expression and plasters on a bright smile.

“Not at all!” He cries, his voice a little high.

Kammi giggles while two dogs lick her face, clapping her hands.

Suga stands from his undignified crouch and straightens, brushing hands down himself.

“Thank –” he starts, just as Daichi opens his mouth and says, “I –”

Suga stops at the same time as Daichi, and they both laugh, Daichi turning away and ducking his head as his cheeks grow hotter.

 _Oh boy, he’s adorable,_ Suga thinks.

“I – just wanted to say I haven’t seen you around much.” Daichi says, and clears his throat, eyes fluttering up to meet Suga’s.

Suga feels his heart jolt inside his chest _._

 _Is this a request?_ Is this Daichi _requesting_ why he hasn’t seen Suga lately? Is this not what happens when someone is flirting? Is this the flirtation process?

This has never happened to Suga before. Suga has never before experienced this.

He’s never experienced his crush wondering why Suga retreated into the shadows after embarrassing himself.

Usually, Suga avoids his various crushes – of waiters at his local café, random people at the grocery store – and they usually just forget about that one time he bumped into them and spilled coffee all down their front or dropped a cabbage in his flailing and accidentally hit them with it.

What does not usually happen, it appears, is Daichi.

“I – just, busy.” Suga waves a hand, laughing a little shakily, and then he wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He’s on holiday. He’s _on holiday._

Daichi’s throat clicks as he nods, pink still colouring his cheekbones, and Suga suddenly realises that Daichi is – _embarrassed_.

_Oh God. Oh no._

Does this look as if Suga is _blowing him off?_

“I – this one is a handful.” Suga explains in a rush with a huff of a laugh, gesturing toward Kammi, “and my other little brother, Akiko, they’re – I mean _I’m_ the one that has to keep the entertained, not that I don’t love them, I do, but –”

But Daichi is laughing, eyes crinkled and happy, and _Suga_ made him look like that.

Suga finds himself smiling back, letting out a relieved breath.

“I can imagine.” Daichi says, nodding significantly toward Kammi, currently wrapped around three dogs.

Suga laughs, and turns back around. “So.” He starts, and raises his eyebrows. “Dogs?”

Daichi shakes his head, grinning wide. “I do dog walking once a week.” He explains. “It’s – extra money, plus it’s kind of fun anyways.” He shrugs, bashful.

 _Can this man get any more perfect?_ Suga would like a genuine answer.

“Oh, that reminds me, I meant to ask.” Suga starts, suddenly remembering, and points a finger.

Daichi’s eyebrows rise in surprise, his eyes widening as a flush begins to crawl its way up his neck.

“You’re not from Japan, are you?” He finishes.

Daichi’s expression changes then, understanding settling over his features. “Oh.” He says, and rubs at the back of his neck self-consciously. “Well, actually, I was born there, but I’ve mostly grown up here.” He waves a hand around. “Um, how – how did you know?” He frowns, tilts his head.

Suga feels his own cheeks heat, and hastens to explain. “Oh, you – with the bowing.” He finds himself demonstrating what Daichi did, but then straightens up quickly when he realises he’s being stupid. “It’s just – it’s a Japanese thing.” He adds, and flails a hand around.

“Ah, well, old habits die hard.” Daichi laughs, still blushing. “But yeah, are – are you?”

“I – yes.” Suga squeezes his eyes shut, scrunching his face up in a grimace. “If I didn’t – make that clear, instead of just asking if you’re from Japan like some weirdo.”

Daichi laughs warmly then, and shakes his head. “No, it’s alright.” He says.

“So, you – you moved here?” Suga finds himself asking, desperate to know a little more.

Daichi nods. “My parents did, when I was young, and then we went back to Japan for a while.” He smiles then, a soft thing. “But I missed it here. I missed more than just the sun, you know? I missed the people, the atmosphere, the markets in the village, and I –” suddenly, Daichi stops. “And I don’t know why I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

Suga had been rather enraptured by the story, and blinks. “No! Not at all, I was enjoying that.” He admits.

Daichi blushes darker. “Either way, that’s why I’m – currently attached to three dogs, whose combined strength _very much_ outweighs mine.” He says, and pulls on the leashes.

Suga finds himself laughing, tipping his head back and snorting loud, and then instantly feels mortified at the outburst. “Sorry!” He shouts, pressing a fist to his mouth.

“Don’t be!” Daichi chuckles back. “The only people who laugh at my jokes are five-year-old children, and honestly, most of the time I think they’re the ones humouring me.”

It only makes Suga laugh more, which makes him cover his face with a hand and shake his head, because he’s being a _complete and utter dork._

Daichi is watching him with something like warmth in his eyes, crinkled up and squinting in the midday sun.

“Suga!” He hears Kammi’s voice, and feels a tug to his shorts. “Are we going?”

“Oh, yes!” Suga agrees, nodding, and looks back to Daichi. “We’re on the hunt for ham.” He explains.

Daichi tilts his head in curiosity, even as he smiles. “There’s ham at the hotel, last time I checked the menu.”

Suga tuts, shaking his head in mock-disappointment. “ _Proper_ ham, Daichi.” He says, and shakes Kammi’s hand. “Isn’t that right?”

Kammi nods firmly.

Daichi looks suitably chastised, but his eyes are glinting as they look at Suga. “Ah, well, I shouldn’t keep you.”

Suga suddenly feels a stab of something then, at the idea of parting, but he only nods. “Yes. Very well!” He shouts, raising Kammi’s little hand in the air. “Off we go!”

And he spins on his heel then, marching off with Kammi in tow, until he hears a voice behind him.

“S-Suga!” Daichi calls.

Suga whips around instantly. “Yeah?” He asks, a little breathless.

Daichi looks a little dumb-struck, mouth parted as if searching for words, and then he manages, “I – I meant to ask.” He stutters. “How is your head?”

“Oh!” Suga says, and then like _the idiot he is_ , raps his knuckles against his forehead. “Good as new!” He cries, and then somehow punches himself in the eye.

“Ow! F – _udge!”_ He hisses, and rubs at the side of his face.

“Careful!” Daichi laughs. “I might have to hang a safety hazard around your neck!”

Suga feels his cheeks burn hotly. “Ha!” He replies sarcastically, but Daichi only turns around and starts walking, his shoulders shaking with his chuckles.

Suga clenches his jaw, but he can’t deny the way his mouth is twitching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up next; poolside shenanigans and asanoya being v clueless and v gay


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry it's taken so long to update, but I have been working on this one! I have a rough plotline, and so I know where I want this to go!
> 
> Warnings: this was supposed to be more of a cracky, silly chapter, but then it turned into a bit of angsty pining, so in reality it turned out to be a bit of both. Don't say I'm not good to you!

Suga doesn’t obsess over it.

Nope. Not at all. No sir-ee, not him.

He totally doesn’t replay Daichi’s soft chuckles on an endless repeat, the hopeful glint – _was it hopeful? Maybe it was just the sun? But does the sun make people look hopeful? Maybe only certain people, people who are attractive beyond imagination_ – in Daichi’s eyes whenever he glanced up at Suga.

Doesn’t even think for the _flutter of one second_ about Daichi asking why he hasn’t seen Suga around much.

Yeah. Suga is pretty much screwed.

He sees Daichi for the briefest of brief moments in the lobby, as he’s going out to the pool and Daichi is passing by, and Suga has the wonderfully good fortune of seeing Daichi’s eyes light up in surprise, mouth opening and feet changing direction toward him, before he’s then roughly stopped by a maid who begins gesturing violently, a steady stream of uninterrupted Spanish pouring from her mouth.

Suga simply nods in passing and walks by, cursing every footstep for the missed opportunity.

He makes his way to the pool with relative little fanfare, although he’s on the watch for stray puddles around every corner.

And so Suga lies down, with a novel that can only be classed in the genre of ‘beachy, feel-good literature’ (he’d glanced the summary involving a vacation house and a group of friends who all inevitably fall in love with one another), his sunglasses on top of his head, sprawled across his sun-lounger, and thinks, _perfect. Nothing can go wrong._

But yes, it’s true, that his bad luck can actually extend to situations involving zero threat.

The ball comes flying out of nowhere, and hits Suga squarely on the side of the head.

As if his skull hadn’t taken enough heavy impact already.

Suga topples, limbs flailing, and hears the shout of, _“Oh my God!”_

Something else comes flying towards him, and Suga almost goes to duck, only it happens to be a very small, very orange (both in sunburn and in hair-colour) boy, who hoists him up and dusts him off, mouth moving a million miles an hour.

“I am _sooo,_ so so so sorry, I didn’t even mean to do that, I just went to go _fwap_ with the ball but I did it too much –”

 _“Hinata!”_ Suga hears, and glances up quickly to find a very surly, scowling dark-haired boy a few metres from them, at the edge of the pool and dripping wet. “Stop bothering him! Just apologise!” He growls.

“Oh!” The boy says, turning back with wide eyes and mouth agape. “Oh! Okay! Sorry! Again!”

Suga chuckles, bending to pick the ball from where it’s rolled underneath his sun lounger. “It’s alright!” He grins with all his teeth and tilts his head as his eyes crinkle, holding the ball close to his chest, trying to be as friendly as possible despite the ringing in his ears.

He almost goes to hand it over, only he notices a group of people in the pool, standing up to their midriffs, a net between them, all struck still and gazing at him in something like wonder and something like terror.

The boy with black hair is gazing at him warily, and the red-head is still gaping.

Suga laughs, bends his wrists, and tosses the ball back into the pool easily.

A boy with a shorn head and a muscular build catches it in seconds, and then just stares down at his hands in amazement.

“That was a perfect toss.” He says, and then he’s beaming wide. “Hey!” He waves a wand, motioning toward Suga. “Come join us!”

“No.” A man with tied-up hair begins, his eyes huge. “Tanaka, _don’t_ –”

“It’s fine, it’ll be _fine_ –” Tanaka hisses.

“Daichi is going to kill –”

“He’s not here, and the guy’s _good,_ didn’t you just –”

“Uh.” Suga starts, his cheeks hot at their furious whispers. “It’s alright!” He calls over, and clears his throat. “I’m – I’m good with my book!”

 _“NO!”_ A smaller boy starts, suddenly appearing. “My ass is getting whipped here, and the freak duo on one side isn’t fair, we need to even up the scales!”

“Um –” Suga tries.

“It’s true!” The boy holding the ball begins. “Asahi and Noya might be good, but Daichi _and_ KageHina isn’t fair –”

 _“What did you just call us?”_ Scowly thunders.

“It’s your names!” The boy – who Suga vaguely remembers being addressed as Tanaka – shouts. “Merged together, Kageyama and Hinata, KageHina!” Tanaka puts the ball under his arm in order to give a physical demonstration of folding his hands together.

“That’s the stupidest –”

“I LOVE IT!” Hinata screams, enough to burst an eardrum. “It’s genius! Can it be our name? Can it? Please!”

“Hinata!” Suga takes the boy shouting to be Kageyama. “We’re _not_ getting called that!”

“Why not!” Hinata cries.

“Because!” Kageyama shouts back.

“Because what?” Hinata stomps his foot.

“It’s stupid!” Kageyama booms. “The freak duo is mysterious, admirable, revered! Something to be feared on court! KageHina makes us out to be _fools!_ **_Fools,_ _Hinata!”_**

The whole pool is silent.

Suga stares with wide eyes. Hinata’s mouth lies open.

“I think you’re taking this a little too seriously, Kageyama.” Tanaka says, holding the ball weakly. “It’s just a game.”

Kageyama takes one look at everyone, growls, and then storms off.

Hinata gapes at Tanaka, as if searching for help, and then he’s after Kageyama like a shot.

Suga isn’t exactly sure what to do then.

“Well, I think we just lost two players.” Tanka proclaims, and lifts himself up out the pool. “Game’s over.”

And then he’s coming over to Suga.

Only they _all are,_ and Suga hadn’t noticed before how _huge_ the man with his hair up is, how bulky they are, and then they’re – they’re sitting next to Suga on the sun-loungers beside him, and.

Smiling.

They all just sit, hands clasped, smiling wide and – really, _really_ creepily.

“Um.” Suga starts. “Can I help you?”

“Nope.” Tanka says with a pop, still grinning.

Suga looks between them.

“I’m Nishinoya, but you can call me Noya.” Noya holds a hand out, and Suga takes it slowly.

“This is Asahi.” Noya gestures to the tallest one, who smiles kindly and offers a hand. Suga takes it, grimacing in preparation for his bones to be crushed, but he’s surprised by the man’s light, gentle grip.

Suga relaxes.

“And this is Tanaka.”

Tanaka doesn’t offer a hand, simply salutes with a tip of his head.

“Hi.” Suga says, a little awkwardly. “I’m Sugawara, but most people call me Suga.”

“Oh, we know.” Noya states, grin going dark and mischievous, and Suga frowns, only at that very second Daichi appears, his face peering out of the bar inside the hotel that leads out into the pool, and then he’s abruptly going white, draining of colour as soon as he spots Suga.

Suga feels his cheeks heating, because he didn’t think he was _that much_ of a horrific sight, only instead of running a million miles, Daichi is rushing toward them, going as fast as the poolside recommendations allow without actually breaking out into a run.

“What – why – hello, Suga.” Daichi babbles, aiming a tight smile Suga’s way before turning his eyes towards the others. “Why – what are you doing?”

“Just getting to know the guests at the hotel.” Noya grins up. “We _are_ the reps, after all.”

Oh. _Oh._

Suddenly, everything makes sense, because it’s clear Daichi _knows_ these people, and for some reason, he – doesn’t want them talking to Suga.

“Um.” Suga begins, embarrassed. “I was just –”

“Chatting.” Noya states.

“With us.” Tanaka adds.

“I thought your break was over.” Daichi replies, although his jaw is clenched despite his tight-lipped smile. “I think you should be getting back to work.”

“Aw, Daichi, you’re no fun!” Tanka grumbles, but seems to admit defeat, as he rolls to his feet and crosses over to a rucksack discarded by the edge of the pool.

As Noya goes to stand as well, Daichi leans in close and says, “whatever they told you, it’s not true.”

Suga raises an eyebrow, and feels amusement curl in his gut. It seems Daichi is equally as embarrassed.

“So I’m to take it their names aren’t Asahi, Noya and Tanaka?” Suga les his head fall sideways, feigning confusion.

Daichi’s cheeks heat at that, going a wonderful shade of red. “I – well, apart from that.” He clears his throat.

“And why shouldn’t I believe them?” Suga asks. He’s only teasing, and he knows it must be torturing Daichi, but it’s just too adorable the way Daichi’s eyes widen.

“I – because, they are notorious rascals, and I can testify to this statement with many eye-witnesses.” Daichi explains, although he still looks rather flustered.

Suga chuckles, shaking his head. “There’s no need. They didn’t tell me anything.”

Daichi relaxes instantly at that, shoulders loosening, and Suga finds himself grinning, leaning in close.

“Why, Daichi.” He asks, breath ghosting over Daichi’s face. “Do you have secrets you want to keep?”

Daichi stares, eyes dark and heated, the tips of his ears utterly red. “I –” he starts, but has to cough because his voice is so rough. “Um.” He looks behind Suga.

Suga looks, and finds all three reps grinning at them.

“Back to work!” Daichi booms, spins on his heel, and then rushes off.

Noya gives him a wide beam before he goes back to changing, towelling down his arms as he pulls on one of the black rep shirts.

Suga huffs a laugh, and turns, only to catch Asahi staring at Noya, nothing innocent in the way his gaze is traveling down the exposed patches of skin, expression blank and carefully neutral all for his dark, black eyes.

Suga stutters to a halt, feeling oddly-caught out, and then Asahi’s gaze slides from Noya to Suga, who is standing directly in his line of vision.

Suga has never seen a man look so horrified.

Asahi’s mouth falls open, cheeks going so red it’s as if he’s been slapped, clearly knowing what Suga has just seen.

His eyes are wide and terrified, and Suga can see the whites of them they’re that huge, as he glances wildly from an oblivious, bent-over Noya to Suga’s frozen form.

Suga manages to un-stick his limbs enough to cross over to where Asahi is sat, and then he leans into his ear, one hand on his shoulder, and whispers “your secret is safe with me.”

Asahi glances up, distrusting, but his eyes rove over Suga’s unthreatening, smiling face, and he seems to find what’s he’s looking for.

Asahi nods, once, and then stands up to start getting dressed along with the other reps.

 

*

*

 

Asahi Azumane has been in love with Nishinoya Yuu for one year, seven months, and a few days.

Of course, he’s always known Yuu was attractive. He’s always been aware of that fact, like knowing that the sky is blue and that you shouldn’t eat two cookies after dinner. 

It’s unavoidable, inescapable.

It’s just fact. 

And he’s always, _always_ been Yuu’s best friend. It’s always been just the two of them against it all, a team, a pair, partners. They’re glued to one another, they’re inseparable.

So what if Noya is attractive? They’re best friends, he’s Asahi’s _best friend._

But seven months, one year and a few days ago, Yuu was laughing, his hair wet from the pool and flattened down against the sides of his face, one blonde streak standing out starker than the rest, all his features scrunched up and eyes shining as he howled because Daichi had just slipped, and Asahi thought –

_I love you._

He was just watching Yuu laugh, watching him happy and good-humoured and so, _so_ painfully beautiful and bright, and then that thought appeared. The words formed in his mouth, curled around his tongue ready to be spoken right then and there.

Asahi has always been told that life isn’t like the movies, that things don’t just happen spontaneously and people don’t simply realise these things all of a sudden.

That people aren’t idiotic enough to simply wake up during the night, struck with the thought, _I’ve been in love with my friend all along._

And Asahi believed that. 

It was easier to believe that, than the fact that sometimes, life can be just like that one movie you’ve curled up to on a bad day with a steaming mug of tea and the knowledge that it’s all just fantasy, distant and untouchable.

But sometimes, you can suddenly be made aware that you’re in love with your best friend, you can suddenly realise it’s been there all along, it’s _always_ been there, a quiet waiting in the back of your head, pushed away and unacknowledged, but then once you _do_ acknowledge it, that awareness doesn’t fade, doesn’t disappear once it’s been addressed, it only grows and grows until it’s as if it's suffocating you with the need to come out and _say it_ –

 

*

It’s the touches that are the worst part.

Or more, the _touching._

Asahi used to love being touched by Yuu. Used to look for it, _wait_ for it. Seek it out and find it.

Now he aches for it and loathes it, and he turns away so he’s not seen turning into one of Yuu’s careless hands stroking along his shoulder, burying in his hair.

Yuu notices. 

It’s not as if he stops, not as though he ever acknowledges it. Mentions it. It’s just something unspoken between them, like so many things are nowadays.

Touching Yuu used to come so easy, used to be second-nature, and it’s as if that part of him still exists, that part of him that didn’t love Noya with such a force, such an _awareness._ That part of him still blissfully, painlessly unawares.

That part of Asahi still lives inside his chest, and sometimes it takes control over his hands, his face. Sometimes he can’t tear his eyes away from Noya, even though the biggest part of him is doing everything to turn the other way. It’s as if he’s enraptured, even when logic tells him that Noya will notice if he keeps looking.

Sometimes his hands reach out toward Yuu before he stops them, forces them back down to his sides.

Touching is a language to them, it’s how they speak to one another. A warm palm on each other’s back in greeting, in comfort, in, _you alright? You sure?_ In, _I’m right here if you need me._

A full-on tackled embrace in the mornings, in _hello, hello, hello, I’ve missed you since yesterday,_ a hair ruffle unawares, in, _will you ever get this cut?_ A high-five in _, we did it!_ A quiet lean against his side in, _I’m tired, when can we go home?_

Asahi can translate every single one of Noya’s touches, but ever since he’s distanced himself from them, he feels himself more distant from Yuu too.

He feels as if Yuu has distanced himself as well. 

Asahi finds he can barely read Noya’s expression these days, the words behind his eyes. Without touch, it’s as if they’ve lost ways to talk to one another. Speech doesn’t suffice, because speech isn’t how they spoke to one another before. It was their hands that communicated with each other, _to_ one another.

But Asahi can’t bear Noya’s hands on him for longer than a second before hot pain sears his insides with the knowledge that _he doesn’t feel the same, he will **never** feel the same. _

Asahi can’t smile and nod and play pretend any longer, because he’s not that good an actor, and although he tries, although he wishes, he’s not that good-natured a person either.

Asahi wishes with a fervour that he was, that he _could be_.

That he could just be happy whenever Noya and Tanaka salivate over a passing girl in a wet swimsuit clinging to her curves, whenever they giggle like school kids as soon as a pretty lady glances their way at the bar.

Whenever an attractive girl asks Noya for directions, and he blushes and stammers out a reply. Whenever Noya describes in vivid detail his perfect, ideal person to the group, and they have flawless skin and flowing hair, legs that run for miles and curves that could cut glass.

Asahi wishes he didn’t feel putrid, acidic jealousy burning deep in his gut, making him mean and spiteful, snappish at Noya and irritated for no reason. Wishes he could rise above such selfish things and simply be _happy_ for Yuu whenever he inevitably meets someone.

But Asahi doesn’t think he’ll ever be happy, not when Yuu finally decides to leave his side. Not when he knows he’ll lose Noya, one day.

It’s already happening anyways, slowly and quietly. Asahi knows, he can see the signs of it. Yuu choses the seat closest to one of the others instead of him these days, he avoids Asahi’s eyes if Asahi ever catches them.

But whenever they do catch, it’s as if Yuu has been put on mute, silent.

Asahi can’t hear anything Yuu is saying to him, or if he’s even saying anything at all, and Asahi stares back and thinks, _I love you I love you I love you I just wished you loved me back._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one ya'll have been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. Did I manage to do a magnificent disappearing act?? That was one long stretch, eh? I am so eternally sorry for any of those actually WAITING on an update of this silly fic, but I do have good reason. Last year, December 14th, I had 29cm of intestine removed. Yep! It's gone, I can no longer digest some salts and vitamins, but it was also probably the best decision I've ever made. My Crohn's Disease, for those that might not know, has plagued my life for 4 long years. Hopefully this is the beginning of a new start!

Daichi, when Suga thinks about it, when he gives it proper thought, examination and observation, is very easily flustered.

Very,  _very_  easily flustered.

And yet, if Suga isn’t mistaken, if he isn’t hoping against hope and coming up with his own conclusions, it seems to be an occurrence that only really — well,  _occurs_  whenever it involves Suga.

Hear him out.

After a few days, he’s settled into the hotel and thus settled into a calm routine — wake up, join his family for the breakfast buffet, stuff his face with as many free croissants as he can physically manage without garnering a glare off any of the waiters or the chef that seems to lurk around corners and watch—

This isn’t the point.

What Suga means, is that he has a  _routine_.

Breakfast, pool, maybe beach, some book, dinner, tiring his siblings out, then maybe (if the occasion even presents itself) a very small glass of rosé to take the edge off.

Suga loves sitting out on his veranda in the cool night chill that still holds some warmth, some humidity to it, like a warm blanket to stave off the icy air, and smelling the ocean breeze as it wafts up and floats over, salty on the tongue but somehow fresh, ruffling Suga’s hair like an old friend.

Suga loves it here.

But  _Daichi_.

Whenever he sees Suga, it’s as if Daichi stops functioning.

Suga feels as if his routine is rather, well, as the saying goes,  _routine:_ it’s not anything out of the ordinary, anything shocking or really anything one wouldn’t expect of a 22 year old just enjoying a free holiday and attempting to get a tan.

But anytime Daichi spots him, it’s as if it’s the most shocking discovery of the world.

He pales, then abruptly goes purple in colour with the force of his blush, blinks repeatedly and stammers before rushing from the scene before Suga can so much as greet him with a “hi.”

At first, Suga took this as a Complete And Total Catastrophic, Apocalyptic Disaster.

Daichi was avoiding him. It was plain as day. Why else would he rush from the scene as if fleeing from a crime?

And then, Suga began to piece two-and-two together.

It happens one night as he’s leaving the dining hall with his family, he spots Daichi, just a few metres away, dressed in a full clown costume and entertaining a few of the kids jumping around him.

Suga freezes where he is.

He’s laughing; his eyes crinkled in good humour and what can only be described as complete, gifted handsomeness, so much so that he makes those wrinkles — from too much grinning, Suga is sure of it — look near erotic. His big, lovely beam stretches his tan features as he play-pretends the part of a clown, acting purposely clumsy as he jiggles on the spot and nearly keels over, making the kids laugh harder.

And, God, does Suga  _ache_.

He’s spoke to this man three times, spotted him nearly a hundred throughout any given day, and they’ve barely exchanged longer than a two-minute conversation, yet.

Suga feels as if he _knows_ Daichi.

He knows his huge heart and his love of children and his near blinding (or blind-sighted) kindness, knows his work ethic and his commanding leadership over the other reps, knows him as soft and sweet and yet strong and firm and all the while just so, incredibly  _beautiful_  that Suga knows, knows with surety, that this is more than an average crush on a faceless stranger at his local coffee shop.

It’s — it’s a  _yearning_ ; a yearning to know more, to understand all of Daichi, a yearning to make him laugh as he is now and make him blush and touch his face _._ Suga doesn’t feel awkward or clumsy around Daichi because of his otherworldly hotness anymore, he feels sore and achy and missing because he wants to stay here forever and learn more, learn _everything_ , but Daichi would much rather flee. He wants a window to sit with Daichi and learn about his past and all his hopes, his interests and his job, but.

But then Daichi catches him watching, with what no doubt is a goofy, love-sick expression on his face, and immediately straightens, flushing so fast Suga didn’t think someone could go from tan to red in the span of nil point second.

But Suga has had enough of avoidance.

“Hello there, Mr Clown.” He starts, walking away from his family, who seem none the wiser, over to Daichi. “I didn’t think I would see you here today.”

Daichi is near emitting steam at this point. “Why, I just — was called in after my good friend Clumsy Clown couldn’t make it. Isn’t that right kids? _I’m_ not Clumsy Clown.” Daichi lowers his voice conspiringly and the kids giggle behind their hands, before turning innocently to Suga.

“ _Nooo_.” They all chorus.

Suga grins knowingly at them, winks, and then turns to Daichi.

“Ah.” He drops his head in understanding. “Well, I just figured Clumsy Clown might have been avoiding me.” He tries, waiting and watching to gauge Daichi’s expression.

Daichi’s face goes through a series of changes; confusion, realisation, before a tentative warmth that Suga can’t really decipher spreads over like honey.

“But, alas.” Suga sighs, throwing his hands up. “If he’s not here, I suppose I’ll look somewhere else.” Suga sends a grin Daichi’s way and quickly turns on his heel, a steady stream of  _what were you thinking could you havebeenmoreobvious—_

The sudden, overwhelming desire to talk to Daichi for those few seconds and familiarise himself with Daichi’s dulcet voice is gone, replaced with the cold wash of rejection and the knowledge that Daichi is fully, completely, utterly out of his league and honestly probably has no clue why Suga is _asking,_ or _worse,_ feels creeped out —

“Suga!” Daichi shouts after him.

Suga blinks, turning with a start.

Daichi looks conflicted, suddenly, and then seems to steel himself. “I — I heard Clumsy Clown would be around the pool in an hour.”

He looks hopeful, questioning, eyes wide and searching.

Suga gapes, before he manages to recover. “I — yeah! I guess I’ll see him over there then!”

Suga spins quickly before he can do anything embarrassing like melt to a puddle on the floor or evaporate into a cloud of hope.

*

After an hour, Suga has washed, moisturised, deodorised, shaved, styled and cologned himself into a nervous wreck.

He looks  _alright_ , Suga will himself admit, but nowhere near good enough for Daichi, or to meet Daichi, or to do _whatever_ it is they’re actually doing.

_God, what if he’s called you the poolside to tell you to stop asking after him and being weird._

_What if he just wanted to privacy to let you down gently —_

With every step he takes, Suga sinks further and further into self-deprecation, until his footfalls are dragging and he’s peering around the building to the pool, unwilling to be the first to arrive.

Daichi is waiting, sat by the pool with feet dipped in the pool, trousers rolled up to his shin as he tips his head back, basking in the night.

Suga approaches quietly, joining him as he slips his shoes off and sits beside Daichi, letting his feet enter the cool, clear water, wriggling his toes and sighing in bliss as the water seems to suck all the tension out of him and seep it into the pool.

Daichi doesn’t react.

Suga thought he might startle, or turn with a friendly grin, but.

_Oh god._ Maybe this really is to let Suga know he’s being annoying.

“Hi.” Daichi states. His voice is strained, rough, but he clears his throat. Daichi’s heat is as palpable as an atmosphere, surrounding Suga and invading all of his senses.

“Hello.” Suga replies cheerfully, wilfully ignoring the slight tremor to it.

Daichi swallows, the sound audible in the silence between them. “Um.”

“Daichi, honestly, if you want to ask me to stop bothering you —”

_“NO!”_ Daichi books so loud, so sudden, that Suga jerks and nearly dunks right into the pool.

Daichi, however, is turning to him with wide, frantic eyes. “No, not at all, Suga I would never say you were bother —”

Suga only huffs at that, because it’s hardly as if Daichi could _say_ even if he wanted to, and continues.

“Honestly, if you wanted to do this privately, I completely —”

“Suga.” Daichi states, the tone of his voice hardened. “That’s not why I asked you here.”

Suga is quiet. “Oh.” He murmurs. “Then.” He attempts, and falls silent.  _Why?_

Daichi swallows again. “Suga.” He starts, turning away. “If I’ve — completely misread all signals, or just totally mistaken them for something they’re not, let me know immediately and I’ll walk away right now and never bother you again.”

Suga gapes. “Daichi...” His heart clenches at the mere thought. What’s going on? What has Suga done?

“I. I suppose you’ve noticed, but I figured if I simply ignored — _it_ , then it would eventually go away. Things are rather difficult, I suppose, with the nature of my job, and I felt myself. Growing attached.” Daichi’s words are blunt, clipped.

“What—”

“But this is, of course, believing the situation was completely one-sided and highly unprofessional of myself.” Daichi interrupts. “And if this _truly_ is the case, just tell me and end the eternal embarrassment I’m putting myself through —”

“Daichi, I don’t know—”

Daichi talks right over him. “Suga, from the first moment —” He suddenly curses, closing his eyes. “No, that’s not the way, I mean — ever since I _saw_ you — I don’t mean anything untoward by that, but I’ve been —”

“Daichi, please tell me what you’re talking about.” Suga states, exasperated.

“I like you, Sugawara.” He states.

Suga is dumb.

Daichi has his eyes tightly squeezed shut, every muscle of his body tense, radiating across to Suga. “I like you — more than a friend, I find you very attractive — or, just attractive and, I’m guessing you can tell I’ve never done this before, but I was wondering if I could take you to ham.” Daichi stutters. “To get ham. To get _dinner_. Where there is good ham. To go — on a  _date_.” He exhales harshly. “If I could take you on a date.”

When Daichi finally manages the words, Suga feels the largest, cheesiest, most _adoring_ smile ever to stretch his face pulling his mouth near painfully wide. His chest expands, widens impossibly to be able to contain this rising feeling filling him up from the inside.

“Wow.” Suga states. He can’t keep the happiness from his voice, his face, his – _anything_. “That took a lot out of you.”

Daichi doesn’t open his eyes. “Please don’t mock me.”

Suga slides his hand across the space between them and touches Daichi’s pinkie with his.

Daichi startles, and then opens one eye.

“Daichi.” Suga states, unbearably found. “I like you too. If that wasn’t obvious. A lot.”

Daichi blinks, turning to face him fully, his lush mouth falling open. “Really?”

Suga nods, still beaming wider than known in history.

Daichi seems to deflate of all air, like an inflatable float, the breath rushing out in a gust of wind. “Oh my _God_ , I’m so glad, I thought I totally misread everything and we would have to ignore each other—”

“I thought  _you_  were ignoring me and trying to escape my stalkerish clutches—”

“Are you kidding, I’ve become something of a stalker _myself_ —”

“I literally didn’t even think you liked me that much and just tolerated —”

“I thought _you_ tolerated _me_!” Daichi booms, with a similarly painful grin, and then they collapse into overwrought, giddy laughter.

God, Daichi’s teeth are truly lovely. Everything is lovely. His pinkie is lovely, and it’s currently curling around Suga’s in a lovely manner.

“You’re so, totally different to anyone I’ve ever met, and I’ve  _never_  had feelings for a guest before, please understand—”

“I’ve never done this either.” Suga rushes, and feels as if he’s probably _luminous_ with the glow he’s sporting at Daichi’s compliment. “I’ve not — I haven’t dated since I was about twelve, and not a guy. My family know, of course, that I’m gay, but I’m just — unlucky in love.”

Daichi looks at him as though Suga’s grown a second head. “Are you kidding?” He asks flatly.

Suga shrinks, self-conscious. “Is that — a problem?” He asks, meek.

Daichi curses, shaking his head violently. “No, I just — I mean don’t _believe_ it, I can’t, surely you must get —” Daichi’s cheeks are growing flushed as he stammers.

Suga grins. “No.” He breathes. “Only you. You’re my first.” The words feel exposed, _naked_ , as if they expose Suga in some way by saying them.

Daichi’s throat constricts as he swallows. The pale moonlight illuminates the action, caresses the hard curve of his jaw. “You’re the first, too.” Daichi confesses softly, and his eyes are so painfully lovely, warm brown staring into his. “I thought — I figured you must be so much more experienced and just flirted a little to—”

“Experienced?” Suga scoffs. “I fell to the floor whenever you so much as looked at me!”

Daichi chuckles. “I — I just couldn’t tell, I’ve never — I’ve never dated anyone—”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Suga states.

“It’s true.” Daichi informs him gravely, despite the light dancing in his eyes as he glances down to their touching pinkie, the grin still spread across his handsome features. “I was a chubby child.”

“I need the photos.” Suga says.

“Over my dead body.”

“For proof.”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“I need them!” Suga shouts, laughing. He wants to touch Daichi in some way, and so grabs his shoulders.

“Give me them!” He shakes Daichi theatrically.

Daichi’s hands come to his wrist. He seems too utterly flustered to even say anything, eyes darting every which way as if scared to look at Suga, but whenever he does, the blush on his cheeks deepens.

Why didn’t Suga see it before? Daichi is just as hopeless as him.

“You’re as hopeless as me.” Suga murmurs.

Daichi’s blush spreads down his throat. “We can be hopeless together, I suppose.”

Suga, stunned and suddenly touched, takes Daichi’s hand and presses his mouth to it, brushes lips over dry knuckles.

He lays the softest kiss over the skin, then holds it to his chest as if it could stop the frantic beating of his heart.

If anything, it increases with the sensation of Daichi’s big, broad palm splayed over his chest, seeping warmth into him.

“You really haven’t done this?” Daichi asks. There’s a breathless note to his voice that Suga wants to revel inside.

Suga, wordless, breathless himself, shakes his head.

“And never.” Daichi begins. “Never been kissed by a guy?”

Suga, even more short of breath, shakes his head again.

“I. I understand if it’s too soon, but.” As Daichi speaks, his fingers trail along Suga’s jaw before sliding up, cupping his other warm, dry-skinned hand against the side of Suga’s face. “But I ... I don’t think ...”

_“DAICHI!!!”_

Suga and Daichi jerk back as if electrocuted, only for Hinata to appear.

“Your break was over like half an hour ago!” He shouts, taking no note of the situation whatsoever. “Grumpy Yama is beginning to appear!”

Daichi’s glances to him, an apology written all over his face.

“Go.” Suga laughs, waving him off with his hands, ignoring his wild pulse and the no doubt noticeable flush staining his entire face.

Daichi stands from the pool, shaking the wetness off his feet. Suga stands too.

There’s an awkward moment where neither know how to part, but then Daichi is leaning in, lightening quick, and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Suga flushes across his entire body.

Oh God. Daichi’s lips have been on his skin.

“I’ll see you soon.” He promises, reverent.

As he’s leaving, though, Suga calls out, “I hope so!”

Daichi turns.

“I can’t wait to be taken to ham!”

Daichi’s already hot face flushes even more, if possible, so much that his _nose_ is even pink. It’s the most charming and endearing thing Suga has ever witnessed. But then he waves, and his grin is brighter than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAAAHHHHHHHHHH IT HAPPENED!!!! I totally didn't expect it to be so soon, I was planning on drawing some more pining out, but then I realised ... two can pine while they both know the feeling is mutual ;))))) get ready for some tooth-rotting fluff as Daichi and Suga dance around a date with ham, play matchmaker for Asanoya, take some walks along the beach, and eventually, play some water volleyball with the crew <3333

**Author's Note:**

> comments and all are forever welcome <333
> 
> I'm also Peasantaries on [Tumblr](https://peasantaries.tumblr.com/), [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/peasantaries), and [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/peasantaries/)! Come over and talk to me! I'll never bite <33
> 
> If you want to find ways to support me, you can find them there! (*^▽^*)( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉﾟ


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